A/N: I feel like a broken record, saying again that I didn't end this chapter where I expected. Actually, this entire chapter was kind of a surprise; I wrote a bit here and there, thinking I was just creating little scenes that were leading up to bigger action, and all of a sudden, I had over 7,000 words. Some are plot, some are glue, and some are just, I don't know. But there is more plot and more sexy stuff coming soon.

Also, this is for WinglessFeather: I stayed up extra late to get this posted before tomorrow. :)

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And then, Ginny didn't get another chance to see Harry alone the entire weekend. The magical paint Hermione and Ron used on her walls gave off strong fumes, and Harry and Ginny returned from their run with the Arrows to find the other couple unexpectedly curled up on the sofa in Ron and Harry's flat. They were eating the leftovers Harry had brought home from the Burrow dinner and looked to be settled in for the rest of the day.

Ginny couldn't help but glare at her brother. "Didn't mum send you and Hermione with enough food to her flat?" she demanded. "Do you really have to come here and eat Harry's too?"

Ron shrugged. "Painting makes me hungry," he said through a mouthful of chicken.

Ginny harrumphed. "You mean, getting caught in the wards because you're too busy with your girlfriend to bother registering your voice makes you hungry," she retorted. "Honestly, Ron, Harry and I should have just left you stuck there a while longer while we ate the food ourselves before you got to it."

She knew she sounded petulant, but she couldn't help it. The run with the team had been more enjoyable than Ginny had anticipated – burning off the excess energy from Ron's interruption and clearing her head. She had talked comfortably with Dam and Harry and the others as they each took turns sprinting to the lead and then falling back to yell encouragements and jokes. But close to the end of the route, Harry had jogged up next to her. To an outside observer his proximity was random; he didn't even acknowledge Ginny on his right as he apparently scanned the path in front of him. But she heard his subtly cast Muffliato and saw the slight stutter in his step as he slowed his pace to match hers.

"I'm working up an appetite," he said casually, hardly sounding winded. "You?"

Ginny was pleased that her reply was equally steady. "I've been hungry since I woke up," she responded. She glanced up. Harry was still looking off into the distance, but she saw his jaw tighten as he tried to hide his smile. He nodded quickly.

"I've got that . . . basket your mum sent over that I need to return," he said. "Why don't you stop by and get it?" He looked down at her for a moment. "Unless you umm, need to shower first?" His eyes didn't give anything away but his voice did.

"I do need to shower," Ginny agreed. "But . . . I'm having trouble with the temperature control in my bathroom; it's always too cold or too hot. Maybe I could . . . use yours? Just for today that is; I'm getting it fixed. I mean, I need to get it fixed. But not today, since it's a weekend. I just thought. . ." She trailed off, only half-hoping she didn't sound too eager. It was a magical building; the water temperature was controlled by a series of spells built into the foundation and it was impossible for only one bathroom to break.

But Harry nodded seriously. "Good idea," he said. "Showering with . . . I mean, in . . . my loo." Ginny saw him swallow hard. "I have plenty of hot water. You can shower as long as you want."

And then Dam had yelled something about a final race to the building just then, and Harry had lifted the Muffliato before dashing off after the team. He'd made a loud comment about giving Ginny her mum's basket as she followed him to his flat – leaving out the offer of a shower – and no one had batted an eye. She was already mentally considering whether she needed to invite Harry to join her in the loo or just get in herself and assume he'd gotten the hint and would follow her shortly. And then, Ron and Hermione were there and all thoughts of showers and snacks and Ginny's own time on the couch with Harry flew right out the window

"Didn't your mum send you a basket of food of your own?" asked Hermione. "Why would you need to eat Harry's?" Hermione asked her question with characteristic practicality, but Ginny couldn't help but feel flustered.

"That's not the point," she said. "Harry might have been planning to eat after his run. Or . . . shower. And then eat. He may not have expected to come back to a . . . a . . . flat full of people finishing his supper." Ginny harbored no illusions about the real reason she was annoyed to be confronted by her brother and his girlfriend, and that it had nothing to do with food. They looked beyond cozy, sitting together under a single blanket, eating ginger cookies without a care in the world.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I live here," he pointed out. "We're hardly a flat full of people." He gestured at the basket. "And there's plenty left. Now that Harry's not playing, I can't imagine he's going to be doing anything to work up much of an appetite." He looked over at Harry. "Isn't that right? You can't be as hungry as when you're playing matches every day."

"I'm okay," Harry shrugged. He was very carefully not looking at Ginny, although she noticed a faint blush climbing his cheeks. "But that was a long run we just had. I'd expected, umm, I mean, Dam has us working out a lot. He wants us to be ready when the strike's over." He was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet but this time, Ginny suspected it wasn't from nerves.

"I don't think I could handle another workout today," said Ron dramatically. He elbowed his girlfriend. "Isn't that right?"

Hermione elbowed him back. "Oi, Ronald, that's you sister and your best mate, they don't want to hear about all that."

Ron grinned back at her. "I was talking about all the painting," he said with a smirk. "What exactly were you talking about?"

Hermione groaned, but didn't look particularly upset, just gave Ron a quick kiss.

Ginny stifled a grimace. She bet Hermione wasn't feeling frustrated at all; hell, she'd probably had a half-dozen orgasms that weekend already. And now it looked like Ginny wasn't even going to get one, unless she – quite literally – took matters into her own hands. It wasn't like she and Harry could come up with some excuse to steal away to her flat for a while, could they? She caught Harry's eye. He seemed distracted, and Ginny realized that yes, he was also trying to come up with a reason for both of them to leave. The basket that had been the subject of their original excuse was currently sitting on the coffee table, being picked through by Hermione. There was no way Ron would believe that Harry needed to use Ginny's shower, but maybe they could say . . .

A banging on the door interrupted Ginny's thoughts.

"Potter, are you in there?" Dam sounded like he was practically yelling through the keyhole.

Harry flicked his wand and the door swung open. "Well, since you saw me enter, what, two minutes ago . . ." he said with a grin. He shot Ginny a quick look and she knew that no excuse would be enough to get her and Harry alone that day. Indeed, Dam had arrived with the news that the strike had ended and the team was expected back at the Arrows' stadium immediately.

"Good thing we already had our workout, no?" he asked cheerfully while Harry gathered his equipment. "We can get right up into the air." He pointed at Ginny. "Too bad you can't come fly with us, huh? Since you already had your workout too."

"Can she?" asked Harry casually. He walked over to where Ginny was standing and bent down to pick up a pair of trainers so she couldn't see his face. "It might be good practice." He didn't say how Ginny's being there would help the team but Dam didn't seem to notice. He was shaking his head.

"Nah, team management won't like it," he said. "Once was okay, for the Aurors, but they like to keep our practices private for the most part." He waggled his eyebrows. "You know, in case Weasley wanted to steal our best moves and sell them to another team."

"I've already seen your best moves," Ginny smirked. "You'd better double your practices."

"Oh ho!" laughed Dam. He lifted his hands in surrender. "If my moves aren't good enough we'll just have to find you someone else then. I haven't seen you dating much, have I? You're nearly as celibate as Potter here."

"Try more," muttered Ginny under her breath. Harry chuckled softly. He bent down again as if to rearrange the gear in his bag and she felt the light pressure of his touch on her calf. It wasn't much, but she couldn't help but shiver. The pressure increased for the barest moment and then was gone as Harry stood up.

Dam was still talking. "Well it sounds like the schedule's rearranged and we'll be in Bristol on Thursday before a day off on Friday. I love the pub there – it's right next to the arena – The Draper's Arms." He grinned. "Hopefully I'll be draping my arms around a witch or two before the night is over." He looked over at the sofa. "You two are invited too, if you can pry yourselves apart long enough."

Ron waved distractedly. "We'd love that, I think." He looked at Hermione. "Right? We'd love to meet the team at the pub in Bristol? I think it sounds fun."

Hermione gave him an approving smile. "It does sound fun, especially since you asked me first," she said. She didn't quite pat his arm, but the intent was there in her voice.

Ginny caught Harry's eye and couldn't help but grin. He grinned back. "Ickle Ronniekins, finally learned how to think about his girlfriend first," he said. He flushed suddenly and Ginny knew exactly where his thoughts had gone. Harry was still standing close to her and Ginny felt a pulse of tension in the space between them, and an almost overwhelming impulse to take the step forward that would allow her to lean into his chest, much the way Hermione was now leaning into Ron. It wasn't a sexual need – although Ginny knew that feeling wasn't far below the surface – but the physical desire for closeness she wanted. She forced herself to move back. Not now.

Harry gave her a tiny nod and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. "I'm ready," he said to Dam. He turned once more to Ginny. "If I get back and Ron's eaten all my food, I'm coming to your flat for a refill," he said lightly. He tilted his head away from the rest of the room and gave her a quick, knowing look. Ginny nodded.

"I'll be sure to put in an order with my mum," she promised. "And we won't let Ron anywhere near; we'll double the wards if we have to."

Harry's eyes darkened and Ginny saw him shudder. "I'm . . . I'm looking forward to it," he said thickly. "More of your mum's cooking, I mean."

"Play well, mate," called Ron from the sofa. "See you in Bristol."

"See you," said Harry. "You too? Are you coming to Bristol?" his asking of Ginny seemed almost an afterthought as he followed Dam to the door.

Ginny nodded. "I'll be there."

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That night, alone in her flat, Ginny considered taking care of the sexual tension that had been coiling in her belly all that afternoon after Harry left. But something held her back. It wasn't embarrassment or self-consciousness; if anything, having real feelings and memories to draw on made her more eager. But dammit, she wanted the real thing. She knew that touching herself that night – or any night - wouldn't at all diminish her enjoyment when she finally was able to feel Harry there instead, but even so, she wanted to wait. The anticipation was enough for now; she made no promises to herself about how she'd be feeling by Thursday.

She was about to roll over and try to sleep when a tapping on her window startled her. An unfamiliar owl sat on her sill, and after she removed the scroll from its leg, it hopped down onto her bed and sat looking at her.

The note made her smile.

I love your brother like, well, like a brother, but damn is his timing the worst. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry we didn't get to finish what we'd started. Well, what we almost started – I guess you're even more sorry than I am, aren't you? At least I got to, you know. And I want to return the favor. Really, really want to return the favor. More than once, if that's okay. Which I know you know, but I wanted to say it anyway. How many days until Bristol? Too many, as far as I'm concerned. Hope work isn't too bad this week. Don't let Robards give you trouble. - Harry.

Harry wrote the way he talked when he was excited about what he had to say and she touched the parchment, hearing his voice in her head and staring at the messy words for longer than was necessary to absorb their meaning. The owl made a soft hooting sound and Ginny nodded and then quickly ripped off the bottom of the parchment. "Where's a quill?" she muttered to herself, sifting through her bedside table. The owl made another noise and flew over to Ginny's desk, returning with the implement in its beak.

"Smart bird," said Ginny. She ruffled its feathers.

Dear Harry,

I meant it when I said I'm going to ward my flat until nothing – and no one – is able to get in, once you return. I can wait until then, but just barely. Play well, for me, just, play well I mean. I know you will. We'll celebrate either way, okay? I'll see you in Bristol.

Love, Ginny

She stared for a long moment at her closing, and then shrugged. She always signed her letters that way. Let Harry interpret it however he wanted; she doubted he'd mind.

After giving the owl a bit of cracker and sending him on his way through the window, Ginny flopped back on her bed and doused the lights. She was sure it was probably her imagination, but now the very air above her bed seemed to smell like Harry. Had he somehow imbued the parchment with his scent? She shook her head. It was nothing; he'd slept in her bed the night before, so of course she could still smell him. She turned onto her side and looked at the pillow where he'd laid; it was still dented. Without really thinking about it, Ginny grabbed the pillow and inhaled. Yessss. Her earlier promise forgotten, she let her hand wander into her knickers. Harry would likely be at his hotel now. Maybe he was lying in bed too, thinking of her. Her hand began to move.

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Harry read Ginny's reply with a smile. He could see the words she'd crossed out – maybe she'd considered them too forward? He didn't care; he'd play well no matter what, but knowing that he had Ginny waiting at the end would give him just a bit more incentive. His mind danced over her promise of a celebration to the "love" she'd signed the note with. He didn't know whether that was her common sign-off, but he somehow doubted that it was something she'd saved just for him. Not yet, anyway. Lavender had signed every silly note she'd sent Ron with flowery sentiment back in their sixth year and the memory still made Harry cringe. But in Ginny's hand, and after a note that was more practical than mushy, it seemed entirely appropriate. He slid back to the last sentences. How would they celebrate? Did she mean immediately, in Bristol itself? In the pub there? Certainly Ginny knew they couldn't sneak off right away; they'd have to keep up appearances. But the pub had plenty of private nooks and hidden crannies, if Harry remembered correctly. Perhaps they'd be able to . . .

Harry didn't even remember grabbing himself but he was already quite aroused. It didn't feel anywhere nearly as good as when it had been Ginny's hand there instead, but at least he had a real memory and didn't have to invent anything anymore. He let his head fall back on the pillow. Where would she be now? It was getting late. Had she gotten into bed after responding to his owl? Was she thinking about him? About how she wanted to celebrate? His hand began to move.

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Ginny wedged the pillow more tightly between her thighs. It didn't feel much like when she'd clenched herself around Harry's leg, but it was the best she could do. She touched herself lightly, and then pulled away, stroking and tickling instead of diving right to her clit. She imagined Harry might show similar gentleness, when he finally got the chance to try. Damn, she wanted him to have the chance to try. Her fingers brushed lower. Thursday seemed forever away. And not just any time Thursday; it occurred to Ginny that it would probably be late Thursday, maybe even early Friday, before she and Harry would be able to slip away. She should have made some excuse not to come to the pub at all, and waited him somewhere else. Like this bed, for example. She wouldn't need the pillow then, and she certainly wouldn't need her hand. Harry's would be there instead, and he'd probably be a delicious mix of eager and clumsy as he worked on bringing her to climax.

Maybe she would have to use her hand after all, to show him what to do. That could be fun, actually. Helping Harry. She bet he'd be a quick learner though. She slipped a finger inside and closed her eyes, trying to picture what Harry was going to look like when he was finally able to touch her for more than a second or two. He'd be hard, that was certain. Maybe his penis would be resting against her leg, and she could stroke it while he attended to her. Maybe she could get him to . . .

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Harry groaned. His hand pumped faster, but in his mind, Ginny had lowered her mouth to him instead.

But I got her to come first, he promised himself, feeling the need to be fair, even while wanking. He didn't know for certain if Ginny would even want to give him head, but he was sure it wasn't going to happen before he'd spent quite a bit of time bringing her to climax first.

But she'll want to eventually . . . I hope. He gripped himself more firmly and then tickled across the tip, feeling the bead of wetness there. Would they be in her flat? On her bed? It would certainly be more comfortable than somewhere in the pub. Damn, he just wanted the chance to try.

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Ginny moved her hand faster and put her thumb on her clit. In her mind, Harry had found the spot himself, and all thoughts of touching him at the same time flew out of her head. He can wait, he'll get another turn. Right now, Ginny just wanted her own release.

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Harry came with a grunt, keeping his eyes closed as he felt the warm wetness cover his chest and hand. He sighed, feeling himself deflate as quickly as he always did when he wanked. With Ginny, the pleasurable feeling had lasted longer, and just having her close had made him feel like he was in a constant state of near-readiness. He hoped they could figure out some time alone together for more than the brief moments they'd been able to carve out so far. As much as Harry agreed they needed to keep their fledgling relationship a secret, he was beginning to realize the negatives of that scheme. He grabbed his wand and cleaned up before rolling over, thinking about what would be the first thing he wanted to do when he finally got Ginny alone.

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Ginny knew her own body well enough that it usually didn't take her long to climax, and thinking about Harry only made her reach the peak more quickly. Her orgasm was satisfying enough, if rather lonely, and when her breathing returned to normal Ginny had the perverse urge to send Harry another note, telling him what she'd just done. She could picture the look on his face as he read, and she realized she could picture how the rest of his body would react too.

She'd gone so far as to sit up and look for another piece of parchment before stopping herself. It was quite late now, and she had no idea if Harry was sharing a hotel room with a teammate. Her first note could be explained away – he'd started it, after all – but a second might raise questions. Better to let it remain a fun idea, and nothing more. Maybe she'd tell him in person on Thursday, what she'd been doing to pass the time while they were apart. He'd like that, she knew.

And Ginny liked thinking about it - the image of Harry, sitting her on her bed and listening to Ginny confess how often she'd touched herself during their days apart, was arousing. She knew witches were able to have multiple orgasms sometimes, but she'd never had the opportunity to try it for herself; it was something to do with a partner, really.

Well, now I have a partner. Only problem is, he isn't here.

That was excuse enough for Ginny. It took her longer to get there the second time, but since she was imagining it was Harry's hand and not hers between her legs, she didn't mind one bit. Her limbs felt like jelly when she was done, and with one final thought about how much better it would be when Harry was there in person, Ginny rolled over and fell heavily asleep.

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Ron didn't say much to Ginny Monday morning, just handed her a coffee before turning on the spot to leave for work. She wasn't surprised; they'd both stayed up much too late listening to the end of the Arrows – Wimbourne match on the wireless. The game hadn't ended until after 2 am – fortunately with the announcement that Harry had caught the Snitch to lead the Arrows to victory by 40 points. Hermione had curled up on the sofa hours earlier and Ron had just left her there under a blanket while Ginny walked tiredly back to her flat. Normally she'd listen to the post-game press conference, but as much as she wanted to hear Harry's voice, she knew she'd regret it in the morning if she didn't get at least a couple of hours of sleep.

So it was with tired, but pleasant surprise that she had unlocked her door to find Harry's stag waiting patiently for her. It bowed its head at her presence and Ginny closed her eyes as Harry's voice washed over her.

I hope I'm not waking you – I charmed my Patronus to appear only if you were alone. Did you hear the entire match? We won! You may know that already, I guess. Umm . . . I'm about to go to the press conference and I know you have work tomorrow, but I just wanted to say . . . hi. And umm, I miss you. Don't send a response; I'm not sure when I'll be alone again. Just know that I'm thinking of you. Not during the press conference, of course, but, umm . . . after. Yeah. Umm, sleep well.

The Patronus faded away. Still smiling, Ginny pulled on her pajamas and climbed into bed. She was tingling now, and gave more than a long thought about staying awake another few minutes after all. But then she yawned and decided – reluctantly – that she needed to be smart about this. She wasn't a fifteen year old boy after all. As her thoughts drifted lazily, she heard Harry's voice in her head, telling her that he'd be thinking of her after the press conference. At least someone's having fun tonight, she thought sleepily. Can't wait to tell Harry that I've been touching . . .

Now Ginny yawned. Despite her self-control the night before, she'd still not gotten enough sleep, and her dreams had been full of images of Harry and her, somehow balanced together on a broom that flew itself while they snogged. She shook her head, trying to focus. Ron was a couple of steps ahead of her and she jogged to catch up.

"Remind me to thank Hermione for the charm that allows me to Apparate without spilling my coffee," she said, taking a sip. She groaned with pleasure. "Did you add cinnamon?"

Ron grinned. "And a little chili powder," he said. "It'll help keep us awake."

Ginny another careful sip. "It's good, I never would have guessed." She drank again. "Maybe you can incorporate you knowledge of coffee into our potions lesson today."

"I forgot, we're doing memory and truth potions, aren't we?" Ron said. Then he frowned. "Do you think they meant it when they said we'd be practicing on each other? What kind of things do you think they'll want us to admit?"

"Probably your favorite sexual position, Ron," said Angelina with a smirk. She'd come up behind them. "But the rest of us will just have to confess our favorite pudding." Ginny grinned at her friend. "That's not something I want to know about my brother," she said. Something occurred to her. "Or you, for that matter."

Angelina grinned back. "My lips are sealed," she said. She turned to Ron. "I think the potions are already brewed and we're supposed to guess which one each is by what it compels us to want to say. But we perform charms to block off private information first. I asked Camilla on Friday."

Ron sighed with relief. "Thank Merlin," he said dramatically.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't think anyone's that excited to see what you and Hermione get up to, Ron."

"Oh, but that's not what we're tested on, is it?" Copernicus joined them. "We won't block all our important thoughts; it's not difficult to prevent telling secrets we don't care about, is it?" He spoke with his characteristic seriousness. "For example, I suspect I'll be questioned about how my Uncle Ptolemy made his fortune."

"Or how his wife squandered it," said Angelina promptly. "You told us all already, when we were supposed to be learning how to recognize potions by sight. She spent all their money on a magical island that didn't actually exist, didn't she?" Everyone laughed.

"It's not nice to make fun of other people's misfortunes," said Copernicus primly.

"Even when you were the one to share news about that misfortune with the class?" asked Ron.

Copernicus looked like he was about to disagree, but then he sighed. "Mum always tells me I need to learn to keep my mouth shut," he said glumly.

Ginny gave him a smile; he may be rather talkative, but the wizard wasn't a bad bloke. "I'm sure we'll all be spilling interesting information soon," she said.

Copernicus brightened. "Or trying to remember it after being made to forget," he said, enthusiasm returning. "That's another potion; a mild memory modifier. Not as strong as Obliviate," he said quickly. "Or anything stronger than that. We'll be working on potions that can be fought. Things that are meant to eliminate a small event for the short term, like the fact that you forgot your wife's birthday, until you have time to run out and buy her flowers."

"I thought you can break through an Obliviate," said Angelina thoughtfully. They walked into the classroom and looked with interest at the number of bottles and cauldrons arranged on the front table. A large Pensieve sat off to one side as well, silvery mist swirling out of it.

"You can, but it's difficult," said Ron. "Better to have it removed on purpose by the caster, if the hidden information is needed later. How difficult it is to remove depends on the skill of the wizard who cast it and the skill of the wizard or witch it was cast on." At Ginny's curious look, he shrugged. "Hermione's good at them," he said quietly. "She . . . she had to be."

Ginny remembered when Ron had told her what Hermione had done to keep her parents safe during the long year they were hunting Horcruxes with Harry. Every so often these nuggets of information cropped up, making her realize that she'd probably never completely understand what her three friends had been through; she couldn't even imagine it. Then again, Harry had said something similar to her once, about what it must have been like, living, fighting and trying to survive at Hogwarts under the Carrows. They'd laughed about the fact that each of them thought the other had had it harder, although Ginny was still convinced Harry had just been trying to be nice. The more she learned about what the trio had gone through, the more she was certain that her experience at Hogwarts had been a cakewalk.

But thinking about Harry, even in connection with the knowledge of what he'd gone through, made Ginny feel suddenly warm. They talked about that year during one of their first long talks, after they started becoming friends. Ginny hadn't even known how Harry felt about her then, and even so, her memories of that night made her think they maybe she had known, on some unconscious level. He'd given her his full attention while he listened to her talk, and had shared things about himself that Ginny had known without him saying so that he didn't tell many others. There had been no going back for the two of them, even that early, Ginny realized. And it was rather amazing that she hadn't seen it sooner. The two of them could have been . . .

"Ginny? Ginny!" Ron was snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Are you going to take a seat?"

Ginny pulled herself out of her musings to see that everyone else was waiting for her. Thankful that she could attribute her flush to that embarrassment and not to the place her mind (and body) had started to wander, she sat down quickly, as Kane, Robards, and Camilla Stalk entered the room with a familiar looking woman Ginny couldn't quite place. She wasn't wearing Aurors' robes, and the ones she was wearing had been the height of style three or four years earlier. Now they just looked a rather tired. Ginny was no stranger to secondhand clothing, and she'd have bet almost anything they had belonged to someone else first. But before Ginny could think more of it, Camilla raised her hands for quiet.

"We're going to divide into groups to sample the different potions," she said without preamble. "You've been learning for the past week what each potion should look like, smell like, and taste like, as well as its intended effects. Now is your chance to put that knowledge to practice." She held up a sheaf of parchments. "The questions you are to ask each other for each potion will be sitting in the room with it. We will review your experiences with the Pensieve later. It's been charmed to keep each of your memories separate once placed inside."

"But before we get started, I wanted to introduce the person who brewed all the potions." Robards gestured to the woman in the secondhand robes. She stepped forward and waved to everyone. "This is Sascha. She's been doing some work for the Aurors while we try to rebuild our expert ranks. Unfortunately, our previous potioneer was killed during the War."

The woman – Sascha – waved at everyone again. "I think I got them all right," she said with a light laugh. "In any event, we'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

Ginny wanted to turn to Ron; she wondered if he recognized the woman. But everyone was already up and moving around as Camilla divided them into groups. The chatter that broke out among the trainees was both excited and nervous. Rumor had it that almost every previous training class had lost at least one trainee because of revelations resulting from this activity.

Harry had been a class of one, sort of, Ginny mused. Did his memories and truths have something to do with the reasons he'd left the Aurors? She doubted it, although the topic of his leaving was still not something they'd discussed in depth.

And he'd not been a trainee, not really, she amended. That first year after the war, all rules had been pretty much thrown out the window. But Ginny no longer wondered if Harry's reticence on the issue was because he didn't think she had the right to know, and because of that, she was willing to be patient. They had more important things to be doing with their time anyway.

"Ron, Ernie, and . . . hmm . . . how about you, Miss Weasley?" Shephard Kane's voice broke into Ginny's errant daydream about just exactly what she and Harry might do with their time, once they got some alone.

"Sir?" Ginny looked up at the senior Auror. Ron and Ernie were already standing next to him, Ron looking somewhat tense.

"Oh, I just wondered if you'd like to be in my group," said Kane with rather forced casualness. "I'm sure you and your brother would love to try keeping secrets from each other."

Ginny frowned, but before she could say anything, Camilla broke in.

"Do you think that's a good idea, Shep?" she asked, walking over. "Ron and Ginny probably know more about each other than normal; it might taint their experience." She put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. I'll take Ginny into my group and you can have Copernicus or Lee," she said, gesturing back at the other trainees.

Ginny didn't think for a minute Camilla's selecting her was on accident, and not for the first time, she felt a surge of gratitude and respect for the female Auror. Kane frowned.

"I'll have an all-male group then," he said. "Better that you take Ron here. I'll keep Ginny with me."

Ginny suspected that the sex breakdown of each group didn't matter much at all, but she knew better than to say anything. Camilla squeezed her shoulder lightly before releasing it and nodding. "Of course," she said stiffly. "I'll just send Copernicus over then. Or would you rather Lee?"

"Lee, yes, that's right," said Kane quickly. He looked at Ginny. "Lee Jordan is friends with your family, isn't he? With your twin brothers in particular?"

Ginny didn't bother asking how Kane knew that Lee was best friends with Fred and George. She nodded. "He doesn't know too much about me, though," she said. "Not like Ron does."

Kane nodded. "That's fine then." He gestured them to the door as Lee had a quick conversation with Camilla before sliding up next to Ginny.

"Hmm, this should be . . . illuminating, shouldn't it?" he asked, knocking his hip into hers.

Ginny grinned at Lee. "For you . . . or for me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "I seem to remember Fred saying something about you snogging, who was it, Alicia? In the middle of Diagon Alley?"

Lee laughed. "Old news," he said. "These days I'm much more . . ." he stopped. "Well, maybe you'll find out, won't you? But what about you? Your brothers seems to think you're too busy becoming top Auror to ever think about dating." He raised his eyebrows. "Am I about to learn differently?"

"We'll see," said Ginny lightly. She'd already planned to hide her memories of Harry and her during the past month with the blocking charm, and wasn't worried that anyone would be able to get past it.

But once in the practice room down the hall, Kane paired up Lee and Ernie and perfunctorily handed them a list of questions to ask each other, after sampling each potion. "The clear bottle is the antidote to use in between," he explained, before turning to Ginny. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"I thought only one person is supposed to try a potion at a time, and the other two are supposed to question them," said Ginny slowly. "And you're just here to observe."

Kane nodded impatiently. "That's one way of doing it, yes, but this is another. I thought it would be . . . illuminating for you to review your memories of the Chamber of Secrets." He held up a bottle of something reddish and peered at her. "And it would be useful for the Aurors to have those memories too."

Ginny glanced over at Lee and Ernie. She didn't see a red potion on their table, but they were both engrossed with their work. Lee was smirking at something Ernie had just said and was making a big show of writing on the parchment in front of him. Neither of them seemed to think there was anything unusual about Kane working with Ginny.

Ron would have, she thought to herself. Or Harry. She feigned nonchalance. "Why don't you just use the Pensieve? I'm happy to give you my memories that way."

Kane made another impatient gesture. "You were practically unconscious, once you got down to the Chamber," he said. "Maybe you could give us some insight into Tom Riddle's personality when you wrote in the diary, but what we're really interested in how he behaved when he was made nearly human – what traits he showed, his mannerisms, language choices, things like that." Kane peered at her, and a beat too late, Ginny averted her eyes. She heard him make a small sound of understanding.

"It would be even more useful . . . for the Aurors . . . for you and Mr. Potter to try this potion together. Your combined memories would fill in each other's blanks, if you will."

Ginny forced herself to look up, mind carefully blank. She'd not been thinking anything recent about Harry, so whatever Kane might have been able to pluck out of her mind wouldn't have told him anything personal, at least. Or maybe, he hadn't seen anything at all, and this was just more of his attempt to exploit their friendship and shared history. She didn't bother feigning confusion.

"I'll ask him, but I doubt he'd be interested," said Ginny bluntly. "And I think it's better if I work with Lee and Ernie now. I've told you all everything there is I know about the Chamber; there isn't anything else."

Kane gave her a calculating look. "I wouldn't be so certain about that, Miss Weasley. Our unconscious minds hold fascinating information, you know." He shook his head. "I've asked him before, and he was more interested than you might think in helping me. But then there were some . . . complications, and we weren't able to finalize our plans before his . . . unfortunate departure from the Aurors." He looked like he was about to say more, but then stopped. "Without Mr. Potter, it may not be worthwhile, even though the information could be of vital importance to the mission of the Aurors."

"And what mission is that?" asked Ginny. "Voldemort's dead."

"Why, to capture Dark Wizards of course," said Kane. "He chuckled. "I thought you knew what you signed up for?"

Ginny did not ask her next question, which was how her old memories of a wizard now dead could be useful in stopping present evil. Kane obviously wanted her to, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. It was something to talk about with Harry first. Ginny didn't break eye contact, and after a moment, Kane nodded her across the room where Lee was now almost doubled over in laughter while Ernie flushed red. "Get to work then," he said gruffly. "I daresay you'll be able to keep your secrets closer to your chest than those two."

HPHPHPHP

"I can't believe I couldn't remember my own name for a bit!" Ron was still blustering over his experience with one of the forgetting potions as they walked to the Apparition point. "What about you? How was it working with Kane? Camilla certainly didn't look happy."

Ginny wasn't surprised her brother had picked up on the tension. She shrugged. "It was more of the same; he wanted me to recruit Harry so he could look at both our memories of the Chamber together. Said the experience would be more "rich and detailed" or something." She frowned. "Did you use a red potion at all? Kane had one that he said was for memory retrieval, but then I didn't use it with Ernie and Lee."

Ron shook his head. "Not red, no," he said. He looked at Ginny. "So you didn't take it?"

Ginny shook her head. "Once I told him I didn't think there was anything else in my memories of the Chamber, he dropped it," she said. "You don't think I should be concerned, do you? I thought Robards was in charge. He's the one Harry always talked about. He said he didn't actually have much interaction with Kane."

Ron frowned. "I don't really know, actually. I do remember him mentioning Kane, and Robards, but he never talked much about what he was doing those times he went off on his own. I should have asked him." Ron looked frustrated with himself.

"It's not your fault," said Ginny reasonably. "Harry's a private person. He tells you and Hermione more than most, but he probably didn't want to burden you with more to think about or something."

Ron looked at her in surprise. "You've come to understand him well," he said. "Took me ages to understand why he kept certain things secret."

Ginny shrugged. "We're older now, I guess," she said nonchalantly. "It was kind of silly of me to be so annoyed with him all the time."

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why . . .Oof!" Someone bumped him from behind. The both turned to see a woman rushing towards the Apparition point. "Sorry, in a rush!" she called over her shoulder.

"That's the potioneer for the Aurors," said Ginny. "Sascha, was it? Did she look familiar to you?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "Do you see Hermione around? She's supposed to meet me here."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "She's right there Ron," she said, pointing at where Hermione was walking towards them. Ron lit up. "Finally!"

"Is that excitement to see me or because we're going to get something to eat?" asked Hermione, giving Ron a quick peck on the cheek.

"Both," he said with a grin.

Hermione laughed. "At least you're honest." She shivered. It's freezing out though, where did you want to go to eat?"

"Mum sent me food," said Ginny quickly. "Enough for all of us, if you wanted to come over." She didn't feel like being alone tonight. Maybe she couldn't talk to Harry, but Ron's comment about Hermione's knowledge of memory charms made her wonder if Hermione knew about potions too. "I think she sent a tart too."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Apple?" he asked eagerly.

Ginny and Hermione both laughed. "Does it matter?" asked Ginny.

HPHPHPHP

As Ginny predicted, Hermione knew quite a bit about memory and truth potions.

"They are related, "she explained over bowls of Mrs. Weasley's stew. "You can be made to forget things, but the opposite is saying everything you know."

"And some can be used to access your . . . unconscious memories?" Ginny asked. She was still unnerved by the idea that things she didn't remember – things she'd experienced in the Chamber – could be pulled out of her head for analysis.

Hermione nodded. "I don't know as much about those," she admitted. "They weren't as necessary for what I needed." She looked thoughtful. "And you said Shepard Kane wanted to use one on you?"

Ginny nodded. "And he said using one with me and Harry together would be particularly illuminating. I don't know exactly what that meant."

"What would be illuminating?"

Ginny whipped her head around to her small fireplace. She hadn't even heard the flames, but Harry's head was balanced in the midst of them. He looked tired and rather sweaty, and when he caught her eye, Ginny couldn't help but lick her lips. She saw Harry take a deep breath, before he shook his head and looked away. "Ron?" Is everything okay?

Ron shrugged. "Ask Ginny. Shepard Kane seems to think you and she together hold the secrets to unlocking the way to defeat dark magic or something." He gestured to the table. "Do you want a piece of my mum's tart? She sent treacle. I don't think she knew you'd be on the road."

"She sent it to me, Ron," said Ginny patiently. Needling her brother was distraction enough to get her breathing under control again. She looked at Harry. "Kane told me he'd asked you once before, to use the potion that unlocks unconscious memories. He thought that if you and I used it together, he could figure out something or other related to Voldemort that's important to the Aurors now, to help them find and eliminate Dark Magic, or something like that. He didn't tell me exactly what he thought we could find out if we . . . worked together. But he thought it was important that we did. Work together. And share our experiences and memories." Ginny broke off, fearing that she was about to give something away.

But Harry didn't seem to pick up on her concern. He looked perplexed.

"I already told Robards everything I remembered about the Chamber, and about the times Voldemort was in my head, starting Fifth Year," he said. "I didn't really talk to Kane about it though. Robards saved copies of my memories for the Pensieve, and yeah, I took a potion at one point too." He shrugged. "It was the least I could do to help. I already knew I was planning to leave, but . . . these memories didn't seem related." He ran his hand through his hair and the hearth was showered with sparks.

Ron waved them away. "Related to the reason you left?"

"Yeah . . . that," Harry said. He sounded distracted and Ginny suddenly realized he was watching her and not paying much attention to Ron or Hermione. She jumped up. "Did you want some treacle tart, then? We have plenty." She waved the tin in front of Harry's face, trying to block him from the rest of the room.

It did the trick; Harry shuddered a tiny bit and gave her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I'll take some with me," he said. "We just had a long practice and I needed a shower and bed more than a meal with the team."

"Why did you Floo call here then?" Hermione leaned forward so she could peer around Ginny to see Harry's face.

Harry froze. Ginny was sure that if not for the dancing green flames surrounding him, his cheeks would be turning red. "I umm . . . that is . . . we're at a Muggle hotel, and the umm, showers aren't very good. I thought I'd come through and see if I could shower here, since there would be less chance of me interrupting something that if I Floo'd to my own flat." He looked at Hermione. "I umm, didn't think I'd find you all here."

Ginny felt a swoop in her stomach. He'd planned a way to get them into a shower after all. A second later, the feeling went away. It didn't matter, since he – they – obviously weren't going to get the chance to do it. Indeed, Ron waved the hand that wasn't currently holding a piece of tart. "Shower's all yours, mate. We're going to finish up eating here. You can just Floo over there instead."

Harry looked trapped, and even without knowing much Legilimency, Ginny could see into his mind and the image of the two of them in her shower. Damn.

He looked behind him for a second. "Huh? Oh yeah, okay," he said to someone they couldn't see. Ginny would have bet anything no one was there.

Then Harry was back. "Actually, I have to go," he said. "I guess I'll umm, shower here after all. He gave Ginny a quick look. "I guess I'll see you all at the pub in Bristol on Thursday? Hopefully the game won't go on too long."

"Just make sure you find the Snitch quickly," said Ginny lightly. She cut a piece of the treacle tart and wrapped it in a napkin before handing it through the flames. Something was niggling at the back of her mind, about something Harry had said, or that she meant to ask him, but then her hand brushed his as he took the parcel and her question flew right out of her head. She shivered despite the warmth coming from the Floo. Maybe it would come to her when her head was clearer.

"Thank your mum for the tart," Harry said. Again he spoke to all three of them, but only looked at Ginny.

"I'm sure she'll have one waiting for you alone when you're back," said Ron. "You won't have to come round to Ginny's for food and showers."

"That . . . that's good," said Harry. He turned away again. "I really have to go."

And then Ginny was stuck watching her brother and his girlfriend feeding each other bits of dessert on her sofa. She sighed.

"I'm taking a shower," she said, feeling grumpy. "Clean up the crumbs and let yourself out when you're done here." She didn't wait for an answer, just turned on her heel and marched to her loo. She may not be able to shower with Harry, but she damn well could think about it while she showered by herself.